


Fae Matters

by Enchantedtalisman



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dimension Travel, Eventual Smut, Eventual relationship, Fluff, M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:27:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23237671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enchantedtalisman/pseuds/Enchantedtalisman
Summary: Getting drunk is not as fun as Harry thought it would be.But then again, a lot of the adult things he thought would be fun...just aren't.Maybe it's because he's been through literal hell, but most days he prefers teaching the first to fourth years defense classes. Until McGonagall can find another teacher, she swears, but he's not so sure she's trying that hard. He keeps finding books and an assortment of teaching materials, and a paper that he's pretty sure had been a test for Newts Defense.
Relationships: Cedric Diggory/Harry Potter
Comments: 25
Kudos: 254





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> What do you mean I rewrote the first two chapters and am slowly working on rewriting the rest because I didn't like how I set up chapter five and six...
> 
> Enjoy? Again?  
> <3

Getting drunk is not as fun as Harry thought it would be.

But then again, a lot of the _adult_ things he thought would be fun...just aren't.

Maybe it's because he's been through literal hell, but most days he prefers teaching the first to fourth years defense classes. Until McGonagall can find another teacher, she swears, but he's not so sure she's trying that hard. He keeps finding books and an assortment of teaching materials, and a paper that he's pretty sure had been a test for Newts Defense.

At least his repertoire of more arcane magic grows by the day. He's not sure if it's _normal_ to have the ability to cast spells that most Wixen have trouble with until their late twenties, but when has he ever been normal?

The alcohol probably won't disappear by itself. Harry might have a vault full of galleons (that is slowly increasing thanks to his minimal pay of ten knuts a day, that he had firmly talked down from five sickles a day) but to this day he still drinks and eats every last bite if he pays for something. But the Mer-Ale-in really isn't hitting the spot.

"I wish I had someone to drink this with." Harry mutters a little more petulantly than he has been for years. He's sure if Ron or Hermione weren't miles away they would be giving him hell over his word choice.

They would also give an exasperated sigh at the sight of Harry starting to glow in pink, purple, and copper tones. "Founders fuckery." Harry glares at his hands, "This better not be a side effect of the ale." This brand is _supposed_ to be tame compared to most magical drinks; it's why he had gotten it over Firewhiskey or Parrot's Cowl, which were generally the more favored drinks for parties.

Except, there's a sudden vertigo swing, and even Harry with his limited drinking experience can tell _that_ is not normal. Moments later, Harry tilts sideways off his stool, and falls. It's a long, dizzying, fall and somehow his drink stays perfectly full in his hand.

Landing is more like standing back up, and Harry has to take a few long blinks before he eyes his drink. "Never trusting Dumbledore to recommend a drink again." He scowls at the Mer-Ale-in.

Because right in front of Harry. Where the old staff meeting room should be, and where Harry had been hidden from everyone in the school, were a load more people. Including, Dumbledore himself.

This really was just Harry's luck.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm ngl I prefer this chapter to the original, but I always like improving on things :joy:
> 
> Chapter three is being currently rewritten.
> 
> ((I should have probably mentioned, I apologize to those of you who might be a Snape fan, but he's never been my favorite, I don't really like abusers and it always bothered me how Harry's abusers were brushed aside in the books so...while I'll try not to bash him he's not gonna have a great time)

"Well, not exactly how I expected the day to turn out, but welcome to Hogwarts young..." Dumbledore tilts his glasses down and looks closely at Harry, "Potter?"

Which is, weird. Okay not as weird as seeing so many people alive, but Harry is _pretty_ sure Dumbledore knows him. And if this is death or some weird hallucination the man should _definitely_ know him. "Uh, Just Harry." He says weakly, because he's in an unknown situation and being a Potter has rarely ever been a good thing. Even the money had come with a price tag; his parents' lives.

"He does look like a Potter, James, have you been cheating on me?" Sirius Black, _Sirius Black_ , says with a wide beaming grin.

To _James Potter_. Who is looking at Harry with wide eyes, "He does look exactly like me...but his eyes aren't mine." He squints, "Probably not mine."

"Reassuring as always love," Sirius snarks back.

"Oh, lovely, another Potter," Severus snaps, which isn't as surprising. Really, even if this is a hallucination or some weird trip, it's actually pretty normal for the man to be irritated.

Suddenly Harry feels a little faint.

"Steady, steady now," A young woman's voice echoes in Harry's mind.

It takes a moment to realize it's not in Harry's mind but rather just very close and he's finding it hard to focus. He listens to her as she tells him to breathe in deeply and exhale. When the dizziness passes, and he can think again, he looks up--

Yeah, all of the dead people in his life are still there.

Like the woman helping him stay standing.

Lily Potter. Evans?

"Thanks." Harry says and no one else will know that the deep gratitude that tinges his voice isn't just for coughing him through a panic attack (Gods above and below his mother really is great, a complete stranger and possible intruder and she offers a helping hand), but for all those years ago. Protecting him. Saving him.

"Of course. You look a lot less obnoxious than James did at your age." Lily says with a teasing tone.

Harry bites back his own grin. Learning about his family has always been a large dream of his. He can't help take in her features, the tilt of her voice, and how _kind_ she is. Memorizing them and imprinting them deeply into his mind. Then he registers what everyone is saying, "I'm not a Potter." He replies weakly.

Several skeptical eyebrows rise.

"I'm not, I'm actually a..." Harry fumbles for _Weasley_ before he refrains. Even if they don't know about _Harry Potter_ they have to know about the Weasley's. He can't imagine any universe not having them in it.

"Evans?" Lily asks with a charming smile. Her eyes just as brilliant as Harry's own shine with humor.

"Ah, no, no an Evans either." Harry stammers. Heart pounding in his chest, because _yes_ , _yes_ his entire being screams. He _is_ an Evans. Just as much as he's a Potter, and a Black, a Weasley, and a Granger.

"He does have Lil's eyes." James says loudly.

Severus turns a particular shade of puce that Harry has never seen before on the man, "As if you could ever deign to even _kiss_ Lily."

"It's Evans, Snape," Lily says sweetly, "Until you apologize about me being a filthy mudblood." She turns her attention back on Harry, "I suppose I was just hoping for too much. With an extra Evans Wixen around it would be nice to have some magical family." Her smile returns, "But if you ever need anything please do come to me."

"Hey, that could be my relative, he'll come to me," James nods sharply at Harry, "Come to me, okay, kid?"

"I'm seventeen," Harry's voice is growing weaker by the second. What exactly is he supposed to focus on here?

"Seventeen he says,"McGonagall sniffs pointedly. She looks a little less aged than the last time Harry saw her. He doesn't know if he's delusional but it has to mean something. McGonagall is a no nonsense woman. She would not play along with whatever this is. If it's her.

Harry _barely_ refrains from pointing out it was old enough to fight a war. Old enough to fight Voldemort. Old enough to lose parents. Old enough to stay in an abusive household. He breathes in again and let's his suddenly righteous magic run through him, coiling in his body like a snake.

"Yes, yes, well. Just Harry. You clearly came into Hogwarts through some sort of magic. How you did it is another question, for another time. but Hogwart's wards are quite sturdy things. Allowing you entry is a sure sign you mean no harm to the Castle." Dumbledore runs his fingers through his beard, "Would you like to enjoy your last year of school here?"

"Really, Albus, I know the wards were made by the Founders, but truly!" McGonagall gives an almost apologetic glance towards Harry at those words. She clearly doesn't see him as a _large_ threat, just a _possible_ threat.

"The wards are extremely extensive." Flitwick pipes up, almost toppling over his rather elegantly made chair. It allows him to sit at the table at waist height and Harry wonders what stopped that from being a choice while he was learning under the man.

"Yes, quite extensive. Enough to allow a child with an evil book to cross the threshold." Snape sneers, demeanor darkening with each word.

"That isn't fair, Snape. You know that book was very complex magic wise. Inert too. To the wards of Hogwarts, _before_ our updates, it would have just been any other book until it activated. Cursed objects that contain things like _those_ ," Lily adds with a significant glance, but Harry is pretty sure he knows what they're talking about, "weren't common even five centuries ago. It's pure luck that I could help Flitwick update the wards in such a way. Your House Founder didn't even think of it."

Salazar Slytherin didn't think of making wards for Cursed Memory Objects. Harry can't say he blames the man. Before second year, He wouldn't have believe it was possible to create a memory that sucked the soul and magic out of another being.

"Yes, so while Harry is no doubt not part of any nefarious schemes, may I check just to be sure, child?" Dumbledore calling him _child_ instead of Mr. Potter is odd, but at the same time refreshing.

Harry runs through the list of his clothing and items he wears on his person at all times. If he remembers right he doesn't have anything particularly incriminating on him. Except perhaps the ale still in his robes, but they can hardly confiscate it (as they have seemed to do with the one that _was_ in his hands when he first arrived, Lily must have taken it while he was indisposed) as he's not a true student. "Go wild." He says. He learnt well enough how to do a few wandless spells and while he's sure he can't beat everyone it will give him the edge to get his new threstal-tail core wand, seven inches with a Pear wood, in his hands and spells casting and flying.

Dumbledore raises his wand and smiles at Harry, "Do not worry this will not hurt or take any time at all."

Only as his wand flows downward does Harry realize, perhaps he should have remembered paternity tests are a _thing_.


	3. Chapter 3

Detection spells are a dime a dozen. At least a hundred of them are too specialized to be useful outside of their intended industry (Fred and George had made their own selection after finding the ones meant for enchanted objects and potions lacking for their joke shop).

Harry knows many of them thanks to his dealings with Death Eaters who had escaped, and had a nasty grudge on Harry. From food to mail, to general detection spells, to more advanced artforms.

But Harry doesn't know everything, and the few spells that Dumbledore casts are beyond him. He knows at least some of the feeling of the magic. It's after all one of the magics he learned the most of--so he knows some of it is to check for Evil Magic (which isn't at all the same as Dark Magic) and looking for hints of...he thinks some kind of mark? Which must mean Dumbledore is looking for the Dark Mark.

A significant pause after that one. Then, Dumbledore says, "No Dark Mark, not a hint of Evil Magic. I suppose I could check to see if Harry is a Potter but I believe that would be a breach of trust on our parts."

"Just because he does not have a Dark Mark or any taint on him from Evil Magics, does not mean he's a trustworthy individual Headmaster." Almost like a balm to the soul, to know where-ever here is, Snape is the same down to the core.

"I actually am not sure how I got here." Harry offers, because he's starting to think this is real. Dreams that have magic in them aren't always easy to discern considering magical folk _have_ magic. But the effects tend to be weaker or non-existent, even if the magic thrums in similar ways. Harry _felt_ those spells. This has to be real. Even the best illusionists need a coven to intricate such a detailed hoax. If there is such a coven, and then Harry is surely doomed anyway.

"Hogwarts, mysterious and never grows old." Sirius says with a large shit eating grin.

"It is very mysterious, as Mr Black says," Flitwick hums with a shudder of excitement, almost sending a few quills flying with accidental magic.

Sprout frowns, "Poor Dear, you think you could head back? Certainly Albus, we could find him a way to send him back home. No one should be sent willy nilly, no matter if Hogwarts is or isn't sentient. The Castle can't just pick someone up from anywhere they please."

McGonagall opens her mouth looking vexxed, "Hogwarts is _not_ sentient. Pomona we have been over this before."

"Oh boy," James groans leaning back into his seat and sliding down, "This argument again."

"All we need is Remus here and it would be a _great_ afternoon." Sirius agrees, standing up from his own chair.

Neither Flitwick, McGonagall, Sprout, Vector the athrimancy teacher, or Babbling (the ancient runes teacher), and several other unfamiliar faces notice too busy debating over the classification of Hogwarts and if it truly is a living being or a magical creature or nothing but stone saturated with centuries of magic.

Sirius takes the resulting chaos to slide up to Harry.

Unnerving and mind bending as it may be, Harry is the happiest he's been in a long time. Whatever sent him here--and he has a niggling suspicion about that, but he can't focus on that now--is a blessing in disguise if it means he gets to see Sirius again.

"Sirius Black, father of this lugs'," Sirius points a thumb at James who has started towards them, "Children. And possibly your second father or mother, depending on who exactly James fu-"

"Sirius," James sighs.

"I'm sorry for both of them," Lily says, able to not only listen to the argument the Professors are having, and joining in it, but able to keep up with what the Potter(s?) are doing.

"Quite alright," Harry gives a choked laugh. So Sirius and James are _serious_ about being married. It's making his mind explode a little. And there's magic to have kids with two people of the same gender? Harry hadn't known that. He should have been told.

"And even if he looks like me, I didn't have an affair." James adds as an afterthought. His eyes scanning Harry's face, "You do look like me, except for the eyes. Not mine or Sirius'." He pats Harry's Shoulder, "We can get a blood test ready, I'm sure it won't take long. That is if you would like to join the Potter-Black family."

Lily sniffs, "As if there needs to be more to your brood."

"I'm seventeen." Harry tries to interject.

But _clearly_ Lily has started some old argument because James and Sirius scowl in unison, "They aren't a brood," It's eerie how in-sync their words are.

"Five kids, what is that but _not_ a brood." Severus interjects scathingly.

"Shut up, Snape," Lily snaps, "I was discussing something with James and Sirius."

A flash of hurt flickers across Severus' face before he clamps his lips together and turns pointedly away from them.

Bursting with pride, Harry unintentionally beams at Lily. He knew his mother would never take Snape's crap and it's nice to see in all honesty. He can already tell he will be proud of his mother.

Who smiles at him with an abashed look, Lily clears her throat and says, "In truth if you are a Potter that happened because of this reckless boy's past love affairs I'm sure you're lovely." Then she leans forward and uses a stage whisper of a voice, "Most of their brood came out pretty well considering their parents."

"We heard that Lily," Sirius raises his nose, "I'd like you to know we only give our kids _five_ birthday presents."

Lily covers her mouth but it doesn't contain her laugh, "You are horrid, I should have never told you about Dudley's birthdays." Amusement makes her emerald green eyes, they really are the same as Harry's, sparkle.

"Yes, yes, it's very funny to make fun of the Dursleys, can we focus on the possible Potter in our midst." James says and clasps his hands onto Harry's shoulders.

Harry who barely refrains from flinching from the touch. He isn't necessarily against touch anymore but sometimes hands, especially women's that far too many times remind him of Umbridge or Bellatrix, can make him shudder, "I really don't need--" And he stops because that's a bold faced lie. He's always wanted a family. Wanted one so desperately that the last time he had found the Mirror of Erised (not as destroyed as Dumbledore had claimed) he had seen the same thing again--though this time with the addition of a few people.

James gives him a knowing, and most importantly, a gentle look.

Clearly, whatever his father may have been, a bully, a prankster, or just a spoiled teenager, he had grown some since. Heart aching with jealousy and pride, Harry decides on one of his most reckless decisions yet, "Yeah..sure." He _almost_ regrets it a second later. He really does.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some minor tweaks. I'm glad I rewrote this part, there were a few inconsistencies that would have driven me around the bend.

Regret is a long lasting friend. Harry tries to remind himself, waiting for the little misstep that will send all of this tumbling down. But for the most part, he's pretty pleased with how this...whatever it is, has gone. He has a room, and been quickly entered into the Hogwarts system as a seventh year.

(With several exhausting Owl exams in the week or two since that first day at the staff meeting room)

Though...

He really _had_ tried to push for not needing a seventh year, but without any actual records on his person to prove he had an education he had no money. The Owls would only get him so far, and he necessarily doesn't mind living on that but--

Newts and seventh year is part of the necessary requirements for James and Sirius to make him a Honorary Potter-Black even _if_ the blood test done by an exclusive clan of Vampires (Harry tried not to think too hard on how that worked exactly) showed a negative if he proves himself.

Which is rather smart, a spy or gold digger might try to get rich through appearance and glamor. No matter how deceptive they were, Harry doubts they would want to stay for a whole year of Hogwarts. Or go through Newts.

Harry having never actually done his Newts and wanting to spend time with his parents had quickly said yes to the arrangement. Honestly having an easy year sounded _lovely_.

And, if things, like they tend to do, end in mayhem and disaster, Harry always has skills to fall back on. Perhaps not in Britain but he's sure he could find bounty work--while not something he's enjoyed in the past it's not hard to find Evil wixen, while releasing or scolding the dark or Light wixen falling into evil arts.

Now, if he could only find where everything is. This might be Hogwarts but...it's different. This might be Hogwarts but...it's different. Harry is sure that _his_ Hogwarts didn't have so many floors, or classrooms full of people being taught. In fact if he didn't know better, he would say this Hogwarts is not just from First to Seventh Year but has courses beyond similar to Higher Education in the Mundane World. Which, Harry has never seen before in the Wixen World.

There's even a few classes that have, from what Harry can tell, Student-Teachers at the front of the class. Including one that Harry is pretty used to be History of Magic--there's no sight of Binn's which is equal parts refreshing and a blessing. He hasn't picked his courses yet, but Harry has suspicions that James and Sirius would give it to him out of some sort of joke on their parts if Binn's was still around.

Some of the classes though...they aren't anything to do with normal wand magic. Harry's actually a little excited to see what exactly he can learn and what classes he can take.

Hogwarts, as always, is unique and still the best thing that has happened to Harry. He can't say if it's the Castle or the Potter Luck but he's grateful that he takes a turn in a Corridor he's not familiar with and falls down a slide and lands a few feet away from the Slytherin Common Room door.

Recent theories of time travel are slowly changing because Harry is pretty sure no amount of time meddling could cause so much difference in the world. He's taken from his thoughts by a younger Draco Malfoy sliding past him with a disgusted look, "Foreigners," He sneers and goes into the Slytherin Common Room with a purposeful stride.

Harry stares at the closed wall for a long time before turning back to his exploring. It's best if he has a good idea of what other differences there are here. He really hopes that it's not _so_ different that his parents turn out to be Evil Wixn, it would be his luck, really.

  
  


"There you are, Harry!" Sirius says far too cheerfully. An arm wrapping almost _too_ casually around Harry's shoulders.

It takes everything in Harry not to tense up--but he does it, somehow. He smiles at Sirius and can't help the blush. Okay, so he had a crush once upon a time on this man. It certainly doesn't help that where-ever _here_ is, Sirius is far more clean cut and healthier. Another addition to the pile of _different_ forming in Harry's mind about the differences here.

Though Sirius did gain the Black-Silver tones, his hair is a cascade of the mixed colors even at...Harry guesses around early thirties.

"You sure you don't want us to just do a paternity test instead of giving your blood to the Vampires?" Sirius grimaces, "I know they're trustworthy, they have to be to live this long without someone giving them hell, but I assure I don't give two fucks who James fucked, you know?" Sirius pats Harry's arm, "I and James know where he firmly belongs." A raunchy grin crosses his face.

Harry blushes crimson. Is this what Sirius was like? Or is it because Harry's verging on adulthood (at least in the mundane sense if not the wixen ways) that Sirius is a little looser in the tongue? "I'd prefer privacy. The Vampires are fine." He also really doesn't want to explain the whole Lily and James thing, and Vampires aren't that keen on wixen politics if this world is anywhere similar to his own on that part of the whole thing. He also doesn't want to give in on being James' kid, well, okay _he does_ but if he does and then what? How is he going to explain his fucked up past to two brilliant men he's barely known in his life, and yet were so essential for him reaching this age?

A frown forms on Sirius' face, but it's gone as quickly as it came, his eyes bright once again, "How about I show you the Quidditch pitch?

"Alright," Harry agrees, if Ron and Hermione were here they would call him out on agreeing so quickly. Since he's been flying for most of the last year whenever he has the chance, but having the opportunity to flying front of, or with, Sirius? Harry's not going to miss that at all.

  
  


The Quidditch Pitch is larger than before. Harry isn't sure how much larger, he thinks it might be a charm, or spell network, because it seems to move when they enter, shrinking in on itself just a tad to look more like the pitch of his years in school.

"I don't have a broom." Harry admits, he actually hasn't really thought of checking what he does have on his person. With any luck his emergency stash of potions, clothes, ingredients, and cauldron (because he had learned during the war it wasn't so easy to make or find a cauldron and a set of potion ingredients), and books are still where they ought to be. His broom is still on his bed in _his_ Hogwarts.

"Don't worry, James and I always carry extras." Sirius grins and pulls out a pouch. It's not that large, maybe two feet in length, but it still is able to hold a proper broom.

The glittering silver lettering across it says _Pegasus Series 300_ , "The latest model. James is still jealous I got it first before him." Sirius winks at Harry. "What he doesn't understand is that it's _ours_ and not _mine_."

Which is actually very sappy and something Harry hadn't thought Sirius was able to express so easily, but his heart breaks a little and he has to look anywhere but at the broom or Sirius. Or he might burst into tears. Because where-ever _here_ is. Here is pretty damn good.

 _I'll make sure it stays that way_. Harry has no idea if Voldemort is here, if there's another threat entirely, or if this world is just that perfect. But if there is? He will fight as hard as he can to keep this family alive.

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was harder to rewrite, I wanted to diverge but I figured what had bothered me so the edits were surprisingly minor. 
> 
> Enjoy ~

Being back in the air is just...natural. Harry misses it everytime he touches down to the ground. Almost as much as he misses being around the greenery in Herbology ( He's no Longbottom but plants have always been a friend, a confidant for all his woes). Or casting magic when he had to live with the Dursleys.

This time, admittedly it's a little stronger, that feeling of meeting an old friend (or lover his brain supplies unhelpfully), sparks seem to run through him and he swears it feels like wings are pressing at his back. But a quick check and he knows it's not true.

The broom is what Harry should be focusing on. Unlike the Firebolt Series, which had been all about speed, a few minutes on this broom and he knows the Pegasus Series is in line with maneuverability. Harry can do tricks on it that he has never risked trying on the Firebolt. Even the speed isn't half bad--actually it's quite good, almost on part with the Firebolt Second Edition, but not quite on the same level.

Sirius catches up, but it's a near thing, he has to yell over the wind to be heard while they move at this speed, "You're a natural! You really must be a Potter!" The pitch is small at this height.

Harry feels the blush on his cheeks, and grins at his godfather--father?-- _Sirius_ , and swoops down. Like before, Sirius is quick to follow but this time isn't so afraid of Harry's more risky maneuvers.

Being able to go straight down and loop four times before hitting the ground at a glide is _amazing_. The Firebolt was just too fast to allow these types of movements.

"You just _have_ to be a Potter. Flying that good is in their blood." Sirius says when he finally catches up to Harry. Even with the same broom model he seems to lag behind.

Harry wants to question that--he vaguely remembers the feeling of wings against his back the longer he flew, more potent than at the beginning. Instead, he can't help the light flutter of his heart and the heat in his cheeks. Compliments from a man he looks up too is...is a lot, sure he's heard it before once, but it's a memory now, and to hear it again in person..is wonderful. "We should probably get back inside." Harry says.

"You should, but you should also join your future Quidditch Team," James' voice sounds from behind them.

Sharply turning, Harry almost unbalances, and fumbles a little when he realizes his father had been watching. Or at least he looks relatively cozy sitting on a transfigured bench and holding a steaming beverage. He takes a moment to realize what James said and laughs it off, "I'm too old." He also feels it would be rather unfair. He trained to fly in War Zones, and it's not quite the same as Quidditch practice. Nor is he really invested in the game anymore, he just really likes flying.

"Seventeen verging on Eighteen right?" James ask, and doesn't wait for Harry to finish nodding, "Plenty of students with a September birthday," James retorts, but he doesn't say anymore on the subject. "Dinner is ready, and Dumbledore intends to announce you rather dramatically."

Stepping into the Great Hall is a mistake. Harry's known that school's been in session for a while, which is why his meals tend to be done in private in his own rooms, or wherever he's found himself in the Castle at that time, and means that his entrance with two Professors is noticed.

Even more so when Dumbledore waves at the door in a grand sparkling gesture (what kind of wandless magic is that? and why now? of all times..) , "Harry is a new student, a distant branch from the Potter line." Dumbledore says with a booming voice.

Harry grimaces at more attention being drawn to them. He swears he even sees a few distinctly unruly black haired-children look their way.

"Just like any Potter, he is a bit fashionably late," Dumbledore adds with a chuckle.

Because some divine being hates Harry, the two prats beside him start bowing. If Harry has any regrets it's not thinking of escaping _while_ these hellions bow and are distracted. Instead, before he can leave, the two (gently) trod him towards a stool.

A very suspicious stool.

"Oh no." Harry mutters. He's been sorted before, he bloody does _not_ need to be sorted like this again.

"Oh yes, Mr. Potter." McGonagall says to him, holding the sorting hat in hand. Her smile is almost _too_ pleasant.

"Not a--" Harry starts to say before he gets twin looks of sadness from James and Sirius. He is really starting to understand Lily's aversion to these men. He doesn't understand how everyone didn't hate the Black and Potter names for entirely different reasons. "Alright." He acquiesces, anything to stop those looks.

Just before the hat covers his eyes (Does it enlarge? Harry is starting to wonder if Godric Gryffindor didn't have a pranking streak), he sees the grins from his fathers, and knows he's very much doomed.

 _Ah_ , The Sorting Hat says, and then pauses.

It grows quiet, and Harry doesn't say anything either, though he _does_ push the Hat away from rifling through his more personal memories. There's no need for the Hat to see his first blowjob, really.

 _Sorry my dear boy, you're just a surprise. A living person from another world_.

That explains a few of the questions Harry has had.

The Sorting Hat continues as if Harry's revelation is minuscule in the grand scheme of things, _And my do I look rather ragged in your world. And you met Celesta! Slytherin would be so disappointed in what his heirs have done to her._

Harry absorbs the stream of concious-thought-speech as best he can. He's still reeling over being in another dimension, and one that's clearly done better than his own world, as far as he can tell.

Another lengthy pause before The Hat hums thoughtfully; _You are quite the enigma_. _While it is very tempting to throw you into Slytherin, you don't have much ambition anymore do you?_

Ambition is a strong word for wanting to survive and have a family, Harry thinks. He knows he's cunning, has always known even if he didn't want to admit it, but ambitious? The most ambition he's had in the last several years is keeping his family alive and Voldemort dead.

 _Yes, yes and your loyalty is quite well known. Your bravery as well._ The Hat muses and then sighs, _Your_ _thirst for knowledge isn't quite the same as a majority of Ravenclaws._ Quiet fills the space between them, the Hat clearly mulling over all their options.

Harry really hates that it's starting to look like another of his Sortings will take a while. Now all he needs is a redhead to become his best friend and it will be first year all over again.

 _Sorting you without your thoughts on the matter would be negligent of me._ Admits the Hat suddenly, breaking their silence finally. _You are old enough to be not just a young child in need of a home and a safe place to live and grow but someone who has already grown--and fairly roughly it seems._

Swallowing, Harry has to take a moment to think on it. Living here it's easy to see he would win favor almost too easily by being sorted into Gryffindor's House. After all if _that_ hasn't changed, and he can't see how, Sirius and James would definitely approve. As for Lily...well, that's a little more complicated, and harder to explain away if Harry let's it slip that he's glad she's proud of him.

 _Yellow and Black robes flutter in his minds eye, and a charming smile_. Harry doesn't even have to concentrate on the word before--

"BETTER BE HUFFLEPUFF!" The Hat roars and the House immediately starts clapping as if they hadn't just waited five or so minutes for one Sorting.

Harry stands, and is grateful that McGonagall takes the Hat from his head while he's getting up. He barely notices his robes changing colors and gaining stitching that wasn't there previous. He takes the clapping in strides, and the thumbs up from his parents (all three of them) is a surprise but a pleasant one. He's only too glad to sit down and try to reel in how he's feeling.

At least he is until he sees that same charming smile right across from him, "'ello, Cedric Diggory at your service, Mr. Potter?"

"Harry," Harry clears his throat, oh that sounded rather squeaky didn't it? "Harry please, Cedric." His voice breaks on Cedric's name.

But if the Seventeen year old notices, he doesn't say anything, just clasping Harry's hand in his and his smile turning, somehow, even more perfect.

"Nice to meet you Harry." Cedric says.

For the second time in Harry's short life, he's stunned and bewildered by a feeling that burns through his heart like fiendfyre. He knows this time though, that it really is a crush, and maybe more than just a crush considering his past.

Conversation flows around them, and Cedric insists on bringing Harry into the conversation every few minutes. It's actually very sweet.

_And not helping Harry's crush at all,_

_Bloody hell._

_I am so very screwed_ , Harry thinks not for the last time that night.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always come back to my Harry Potter fics when I get frustrated that none of the fics in the fandom remind me of when it was still a new fresh fandom and Harry would be a dragonrider or a reincarnation of salazar or super gay with anyone other than Severus, Draco, or Voldemort...
> 
> Still sad that there's this one fic where Harry was part snake-heritage and with a gay OC boyfriend and it's just gone.
> 
> Ah well, enjoy <3

The Rest of the night is actually relatively calm. Oh, people _want_ to ask questions, Harry can see it in their eyes and frequent head tilts and leaning bodies. And

they do ask some, but for the most part the Hufflepuffs as a whole seem to realize just how uncomfortable the attention makes Harry.

Harry isn't sure if that same courtesy towards the other Houses in this _Dimension_ (he can't quite wrap his mind around it even though he had already started suspecting it ages ago) but it's a refreshing one compared to his own House and their rabid desire to know everything and anything about _Harry Potter_.

Eventually the Prefects send everyone to bed, and Cedric leads Harry to his-- _their_ rooms.

Harry really needs to get a handle on his crush. It's almost worse than last time. Possibly because he knows what he wants now. And it's a bloody hard thing to realize that he's bloody well sleeping in the same room--

No, not the same room, at all.

"Here we are. Seventh Years sleep in separate rooms but the same hall. I assume the founders worried about protection?" Cedric trails off, rubbing his chin and then shyly laughing, "Maybe it was to keep the randy students from eachother? Seventeen was near Mundane wed age, and you know there were a few muggleborns who wanted to live on both sides. Which no doubt effected the politics even to this day and age...Ah, sorry I'm working on my History and Charms Newts this year. Next few years maybe my Masters." He grins and it lights up his entire face.

"D-don't be," O dear gods of magic, Harry's stuttering like he isn't a literal War Hero. He feels his face flush and hopes it's not visible thanks to the low light of the wall-lumi (He had barely gotten any questions of his own in, but he had been curious by all the different functioning spells clearly this world is different in more ways than just a few).

They stare at eachother in the dim light for a few minutes, and Harry's not totally blind he can see the blush on Cedrics cheeks, but it _can't_ be because of Harry--skinny, and okay some muscle, but mostly scarred arms, and chest not that Cedric can see those, and far too messy of hair pulled into a tight bun because it's easier than letting people touch his hair or try and cut it for him.

Cedric clears his throat, his blush growing a little more, "I should head into my room. I have pre-class work to do tomorrow." He grimaces, "They don't give us any time to rest after the train ride..." He trails off.

Harry swallows, and _hopes_ that this isn't a rejection because it sure sounds like one.

"Maybe we can meet at lunch tomorrow? I hope we can be friends." The earnesty must be a Cedric Diggory thing, because Harry is pretty sure no Hufflepuff has acted so sweet in _his_ dimension.

"Of course, yes." Harry nods so quickly the world spins for a moment.

Cedric grins like he's caught the snitch and he's gone in a whirl of robes. Strong legs and what an _ass_ , still able to be seen in his under-robes, a pair of breeches and tunic that flutter like his robe.

Several long, long, seconds pass before Harry turns away and opens the door to his room. He settles against the door and sighs up at the ceiling. His chest thumping as if he's fought another dragon and he realizes belatedly he's grinning like a fool. "I can't believe I'm even more embarrassing the second go around." He groans and covers his face. He can't push away the smile though.

 _Cedric wants to talk to me_ , Harry laughs, "He wants to be my _friend_." He's definitely blushing now, and certainly acting more like a teenager than he has in years. He shakes head and settles to look at his room.

It's nothing grandiose, which Harry is grateful for he doesn't want anything expensive or utterly ridiculous from his new guardians (parents is...a title best left alone for now or his brain may literally explode). Like Gryffindor, the room is filled with soft yellows and blacks--though Harry is grateful to see that the yellows are more a dirty brown on the walls and floors. He even has his own private bathroom. (If a part of him is disappointed about not sharing one with Cedric he's not thinking on it too hard)

With a quick change of clothing, Harry is ready for bed and doesn't so much fall asleep as cover his face with a pillow while thinking of Cedric and that perfect grin at the end of their conversation. He may use Occlumency to imprint the memory as much as possible. He doesn't want to even _chance_ forgetting it. Sometime between then and just basking in being _here_ he falls asleep, he can't say when though.

  
  


"Potter." Professor Sprout is a kindly woman but she looks rather less cheerful in the morning.

Harry can't blame her, he's not much better off after seeing Cedric in the hallway buttoning up his tunic and showing off enough skin that he had to return to his room and Occlumency _that_ too. Oh, he's not angry, or uncheerful but it's certainly unfair that the man looks like _that_ under his robes.

"Professor," Harry says, pausing in the middle of the common room. Is it normal for the Heads of Houses to enter the common room? He hasn't ever seen McGonagall unless it's an emergency.

A small smile appears of Sprout's face, "While Professor Snape still has his suspicions, I am very glad you have joined our House. Do us proud. As for the next few days, up to a week mind, I would like you to decide on your classes. It's a little unorthodox of course, but it won't hurt I think a little change is what has kept the Magical World thriving for so long." An elegant scroll holder is presented to him with the engraving of the Hogwart's coat of arms.

Harry takes it and nods, "So there are classes other than Charms, Transfigurations, and Potions?" He asks hoping for some leeway.

Of course, Sprout gives it to him with another small smile, "Yes, we have quite the course list, it's why Hogwarts is considered one of the most varied schools of the Britian and Scotland area. Though I have heard good things of the Cínaed School..." She taps the scroll, "But Ireland isn't in competition with us, now fill this out and once again you have a week before the scroll is sent back to me and the Headmaster. If you finish before than, just tap your wand and say _Home_." She nods once more at Harry, "I am sorry Mr. Potter but I must be going soon, the first day is in three more days and I must get ready for a few more classes. Corralling a whole House _and_ two other Herbology Professors, a witch's work is never done." She bustles out of the Common room as quickly as she came in.

Harry examines the scroll holder, and heads towards the Entrance himself, he might as well eat some breakfast while he looks over his options. Perhaps even head to the library, there has to be a reason why this Dimension is so different from his own, and he's morbidly curious.

  
  


Seated at one of the Hufflepuff tables near the Head Table (apparently outside of the main feasts, the first day of classes, all the tables are interchanged and appear in random places all over the greathall in an orderly fashion for people to pass by), Harry nibbles on fruit (a delicacy he had never really gotten much of when younger because fruit spoiled too easily if hidden without magic) and examines the scroll.

A variety of the classes are things Harry can't take because of his lack of Majority (the Wixen age being 40, Soul Magic), or because he's not a Graduate (The Beginning of the Dark Arts), but he focuses on the things he _can_ take;

_Elemental Basics (Fire, Water, Earth, Air; Fourth Year and Above)_

_Elemental Basics 2 (Ice, Lava, Shadow, Light, Prerequisite: Elemental Basics)_

_Intro to Healing Magic (Fifth Year and Above)_

_Deities of Magic (First year Onwards)_

_Smithy Magic (Seventh year Class)_

_Intro to Combat (Sixth Year and Above)_

_Connections ( Divination Owl Required)_

Harry pauses at that and squints, does that really say Divination offshoot? He shakes his head and crosses that off the list, he's quite content never touching a Divination class again.

Advanced Defense (Fifth Year DADA Owl Required, or Entry Test)

An obvious choice, Harry knows an assortment of spells but that doesn't mean he knows _everything_ , and it's not like he doesn't have the knowledge to pass the DADA Owls, and he doubts he would do poorly on the Newts either.

There are still a dozen more classes to look through and Harry goes through them, he knows better than to pick at random and he's curious.

Eventually, Harry has his class schedule, and it's far past the end of morning breakfast, but he's pleased with his selection;

_Advanced Defense (Fifth Year DADA Owl Required/Entry Test)_

_Elemental Basics (Fourth year and Above)_

_Intro to Healing Magic (Fifth Year and Above)_

_Deities of Magic (First year and Above)_

_Charms Seventh Year_

_Transfiguration Seventh Year_

_The Magic of Familiars (Sixth year and Above)_

_Intro to Magical Heritages (Sixth Year and Above)_

With a snap the scroll closes and Harry taps the scroll-holder with his wand and says, "Home."

A brilliant light fills the scroll-holder and sparks across it's bronze surface before it disappears.

With a grin, Harry stands up and heads to the library. He's actually _excited_ for classes.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure how I feel about this chapter, may or may not rewrite it. We'll see.
> 
> Enjoy! <3

"Come onnnn, not even a little hint?" Sirius' whining is almost endearing...almost.

Flipping another page of the book in front of him, Harry keeps his eyes on the pages.

 _The Elven Kingdom crumbled in the year of 3000 BCE (Before the common era) while the Fae's own kingdom grew to take over the majority of the isles on the Western side of the European Continent. To this day there is nary a magical of the isles that can't find_ some _Fae blood inside of them..._

"Harry, please, tell usss," Oh joy, James joining the chorus is all Harry needs.

Harry looks up and sighs, he doesn't know why Lily isn't piping up, but maybe she's just _used_ to the two prats. Or...

A closer look and Lily's eyes keep flicking up, and she looks a little...guilty.

Another sigh, and Harry closes the book, running a hand against the history of the European Magicals is fascinating but so thick that there's a literal spell to make all the pages fit into it. There's so much to read that he had picked a random chapter to start with. It's still mind-boggling; he had never heard of an Elven Kingdom, or any of the ones listed (because there are _so many_ ). "I picked Charms,"

"Yes!" Lily cheers and sticks her tongue out at the other two.

Harry pauses to stare at his mother and then the suddenly bickering three adults. He feels a pang of aching _wishing_ in his heart and barely notices the little glimmers across his skin, he reels back his magic--or at least he thinks that was his magic? He's never _glimmered_ before.

Thankfully the others haven't noticed too busy having a row, before James turns around and presses his hands together, "Harry, my lovely son, heart beating in my chest, tell me you picked Transfigurations too."

Suddenly it's hard to swallow, and Harry is grateful when Sirius stops him from having to respond.

"I thought I was the heart beating in your chest." Sirius huffs, dramatically put upon.

"You know exactly where my heart beats when I'm with you, Siri," James says, and it shouldn't be as romantic as it is.

But apparently it works for Sirius who blushes and grins roguishly, "Same here, Jamie boy."

"Both of you are terrible, and right in front of your son, too." Lily says dryly and then turns to Harry, "Of course these two lugs won't mind if you haven't picked their favorite subject. Trust me, they'll whine and cry about it but they are soft on all their kids." She winks at Harry.

Harry can't help the smile on his face and briefly looks at Sirius and James. "Took Advanced Defense." Just to see them both lose momentum.

"You fuck Remus, then James?" Sirius asks.

Oh boy, this again, Harry thought they were past it but apparently it's either a running joke now or they really do suspect that Harry isn't Sirius' kid. Which, to be fair to them isn't wrong.

James rolls his eyes, "And have to deal with him avoiding me for a week? No thanks."

Sirius bites his lip to hold back a guffaw, and nods, "I still can't believe he avoided you for a month, Lils."

"We're not talking about it, or any of my past relationships." Lily says flatly.

The idea of Remus _and his mom_ sort of blows Harry's brains, and he really doesn't want to think about it, but now that it's out there his mind starts conjuring images he really _does not want_.

"I'm taking Transfiguration too," Harry quickly adds, and he doesn't care how obvious he's switching the topic is, "and a few others." He frowns, "I don't know if I'll get the supplies in time."

"Oh, don't worry, Dumbledore gave us a pass as your de-facto-guardians." James says cheerfully, pulling out a small scroll and letting it roll open to show Dumbledore's signature and magical coating of the parchment.

"That's...gracious of him." Harry murmurs, and swears when he looks at the parchment he feels a unique magic he has never quite felt before. It makes him want to say every little thing in his head, and divulge all his uncomfortable secrets. Like if he told Sirius how much he wished to ride his co-- woah. Harry wrenches his eyes away.

"Ah, never dealt with an imp-blood, huh?" James quickly puts away the scroll and crouches down.

Sirius is quick to follow, looking hang-dogged, "We should have figured, you don't really reek of any magical blood outside Wixen." He sighs, "Your parents one of those freaky purebloods?"

Lily sniffs, "I hope not, poor dear. Nothing creepier and gross than those purebloods, always interbreeding to keep even the flimsiest chance of magical people's blood out of their Wixen heritage." She shakes her head, "It's no wonder they're becoming less and less magical."

Magical people blood? So the Elves and Faes? And apparently Imps?? Exist. Harry's head feels a little spinny, and he has to admit, with begrudging amusement that the Dumbledore line having Imp blood in them makes a lot of sense in retrospect. The man loved playing games, mischief, and not explaining himself. From what Harry knew of his world's imps, though just as diminutive as the fairies and pixies in his world, they didn't really so much tell anyone anything but rather cause chaos and maybe there was a reason, or just maybe it was for fun.

"Harry?" James' face is full of concern, and how wild is that?

Hearing that these two people who might as well be strangers say they will take care of him and act as pseudo-guardians, and _see it_ in action is. Mindboggling, and wild, because _why_ , Harry can't ask though, because what if it's just a plan? Who knows with this dimension. Harry knows so little, and can't trust as much as part of him yearns for this exact thing. "I'm alright," Harry can handle this, and if he's lucky maybe this isn't all a trick. So he can accept and enjoy every bit of this new family.

James gives him a raised brow, but doesn't argue, "Well, just be careful, I hope you took Magical Heritages--"

"We could add it to his classes," Lily murmurs, already pulling out a quill and parchment.

"Lily, James, maybe we should _ask_ before we _do_." Sirius says, the actual logical guardian. The world must be wrong, clearly if Sirius is the voice of reason.

"I do have it picked as one of my classes," Harry's smiling again, and fuck it, who knows if this world is wrong, but he can't help that part of himself anymore. He _wants_ this (another glint of glimmering silver against his fingers and skin peaking from his robes) and he refuses to feel unworthy or regret. Even if it's a trick, he's handled worse. "So, the shopping, when does that happen exactly?" A subject that is much less precarious emotionally speaking then caring guardians and fathers who should have been his.

"We can go now, if you remember all of your classes. Best to get everything before classes start." Sirius says with a grin.

James still looks undecided, hand coming to Harry's knee and patting it almost familiarly. "If you do need anything, we're here." He says low enough that Harry's not sure if the others can hear, before he stands up, "Lils, don't you have anything else to do?"

"Can't think of a thing, and I might as well come, I don't need you lot giving Harry all gold encrusted chests, cauldrons, and hundred galleon books." Lily flips her golden-red hair, had it always been golden? And struts off ahead of them.

Sirius clasps an arm around Harry's shoulders (When had he pulled Harry out of his seat?) and starts guiding him out of the library.

"I actually wanted to check those books out." Harry mutters forlornly. It had taken so long to find the books he wanted.

"We can buy them for you," Another arm loops around Harry's waist and James smiles down at him.

Admittedly, Harry's too distracted by the physical contact to argue, bad enough they are going to buy his school supplies and now want to buy him research material. It's _nice--amazing--stupendous_ to have comforting touches against his body that aren't from just friends. As much as his friends meant the world to him--this is on a whole other level. It's probably why Harry loses any chance of arguing and gets swept into Lily's room (Being the nearest one) and sent through a fireplace to; "Mushroom Brook" With slight confusion, and disappears in a flutter of green sparks.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was more difficult then I thought it would be, trying to make Mushroom Brook Unique and not just a copy of Diagon Alley and detailed without glossing over too much was...almost impossible.
> 
> Enjoy~ <3

Mushroom Brook is, well _fantastical_.

Literal Centaurs, shimmering folk with scales across their bodies and---tails? peaking out of their robes, thousand of pixies fly by at a time, though not all in a group or at once.

Hundreds of magical folk. It's mindboggling. And if Harry had thought Diagon Alley was magical that first day this is beyond that. There are of course the shops but the area is briskly open with magical lights floating about, avenues for people on broomsticks, and even a _park_ in the center of the whole thing. He can even see some mermaids and other folk in the middle where the lake is most prominent.

"That thing goes down and out into the entire village. Makes shopping for the merfolk and Naga who can't walk on land or don't want too, much simpler." Sirius says from behind Harry.

Harry jolts and turns around, or tries too but then his eyes land on the fairies. They're gorgeous. Unsurprisingly. He's at least sure one of them is in an incubus but the other look like the more common fairy folk he's heard of from books and his own digging into magical creatures back in his own dimension.

The Incubus seems to sense Harry's attention looks up, a wide delighted grin and winks at Harry.

At least he's grinning until a presence is suddenly at Harry's back. A look up and James' face is literal murder.

Harry doesn't have to glance back at the Incubus to know the trio of fairy have fled thanks to James. He's almost disappointed, he's heard the best sex a magical can have is with the omnibus folk.

"I'm sure your kids will love that when they get older." Lily says but she doesn't look too pleased by the Incubus' attention either. "Harry, not that I want to agree with Potter of all people, but if you are really a pureblood best to stay away from more sexual encounters with types that feed on sex. You're more than likely to turn thrall."

Harry hadn't known that and considering he really _doesn't_ know if he's a 'pureblood' as this world defines it he much rather not be thralled. The few times Imperius had gotten a lucky shot on him had been well enough for him to realize he wanted nothing to do with being mentally controlled. "Right, thanks for the warning, also James, I'm old enough to handle a little interest." He can't believe he has to say that but better now than later. All he needs is James and Sirius finding out he likes Cedric and is in the same dorm-hall as the other man.

"That's just James for you, protective as all bloody hell. You should have seen him when I was magically carrying the twins." Sirius grins cheekily.

For a moment James says nothing and it takes Harry a few seconds while the man is sputtering his defenses of magical wombs aren't always structurally sound and it was better safe than sorry, Harry realizes the man is blushing. Who knew James was actually embarrassed by his overprotective streak?

Eventually Harry can only listen to the three bicker fondly for so long, even if it's absolutely endearing and he savors every moment, and he heads towards the nearest shop.

Like everything else they're _brilliant_ , one is about literal trees? The Dryads coming out of it and holding a sapling oak that looks like them makes him think it's like a quick in and out nursery? An odd thing to be in a shop but maybe he's assuming _everything_ here is a shop. For all he knows the Alley is like Hogsmeade an intermixing of housing, pubs, clinics (though the one in his dimension had been destroyed years before Harry had ever even joined Hogwarts), and stores.

Harry _does_ eventually find a shop that looks like it sells supplies he may need. He enters it and doesn't need to look behind him to know his guardians have followed diligently in his wake.

"Defense first?" James sounds like a child when he whines.

(Harry tries not to find his dad from another dimension acting like a kid endearing)

"Yes," Is the quick response, to cover up the fact that Harry hadn't realized it was a Defense shop. The lettering had been in another language, Harry thinks? It had looked rather strange, and curvy, not quite anything Harry had ever seen before.

Inside the shop there are books, swords, staves, daggers, and even an assortment of what looks like clothing. Even a few devices that remind Harry of those awful devices he had gotten to help him find enemies. Except cleaner and looking far more likely to actually do the job of seeing and finding enemies waiting for you.

"Let's stick to the books, Harry," Sirius says and nudges him away from the daggers.

Which is rude, it's not like Harry's known to wear daggers or swords. They just look very pretty. Especially the emerald green dagger that looks sort of like glass. He doubts it's useful in combat without a host of strengthening charms but it's very pretty.

The books are just as interesting, keeping Harry's attention for at least half an hour; _Defense of the Twentieth Century_ is one he picks out immediately hoping for some information on the current spells in this universe and to see just how similar his own repertoire is. The next is _Naga's Gaze; Defense of the Eyes and Those that See_.

"Not sure that will be too useful without some creature blood in you, Harry." Lily says and then hands him a book, but doesn't take the other away, "Try this one, Defense of the Purest of Blood. I know riveting title." She says dryly with a roll of her eyes.

A grin appears on Harry's face and he nods, before taking the book and adding it to the pile. Of course since _Lily_ gave Harry a book, Sirius and James both decide to try and find something useful for Harry.

Which means he ends up with six books in total; _Defense of the Twentieth Century_ , _Naga's Gaze; Defense of the Eyes and Those that See, Defense of the Purest of Blood, Titillating Tricks - Hexes - and Curses_ (Sirius) _,_ and _One Thousand Shielding Spells_ (James) and _The Study of Defense Year 7_.

The total of course makes Harry balk but James and Sirius and even _Lily_ (who pays for her suggestion with a minor fight between the three adults) pay without blinking an eye.

  
  


"Okay no presents this time, for my sanity." Harry says when they find the _Elegant Dress_ clothing store. The designs are well, different to say the least. Harry quickly folds on letting the others choose and pick clothing for him. Because James won't give him the supply list.

Ten minutes in and Harry has felt like he's tried every design and yet there's _more_ , and when he comes out wearing shoes that look like they should be on a fighter's legs not his own (strong soles, sturdy cushioning for his ankles, and no ties because "What if you trip on them Harry?" Sirius had asked apparently very serious about the whole thing), pants that really shouldn't be called pants considering they cut off mid thigh--

"Never had under-shorts for your robes then? Trust me better than just wearing underwear." James says cheerfully

\--and a shirt that is tight and oddly very comfortable, and covering it is a robe that fits his form well and yet is as thin as silk.

"The times have changed." Lily tilts her head, "I know my grandma, the magical one, would have rolled Dumbledore's head for allowing such sheer cloth as a cover."

Harry would agree but even if it's thin it keeps most of his body covered, and isn't very see-through at all. It's honestly more like wearing nothing and with how flexible and stretchy it is he could see wearing this in a fight. Not that he's going too. No matter if Sirius and James gets the version of these thin-robes cut in the duelist style.

"I should send a recording to their children so they know what to expect." Lily murmurs, offering no help or sympathy to Harry.

  
  


On the plus side, Harry thinks when they finish with clothing, there's only a few more things to do. Like get more books for his classes, and a foci for his familiar and elemental _and_ healing training. Apparently beginners just aren't practiced enough to learn said disciplines without one and each requires such depth of practice that a wand doesn't suffice.

A bubble of excitement fills Harry and he _almost_ doesn't mind when Lily tricks him into divulging every single book he had been looking at in the library.

Coming back to his dormitory with more things than he's ever bought for himself is a little frightful but warms his heart immensely.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, Kudos are all lovely.
> 
> As an aside;
> 
> Amal is a long standing reader since the age of thirteen; he/him pronouns, he loves anything to do with fantasy and sci fi as long as it's not painfully heteronormative/albiest/homophobic/intentionally very dark/gritty. He also has a ridiculously needy pup by the name of Little Bear.
> 
> Out of all the things Amal wants to do is put as much good into the world as he can before he meets Anubis.
> 
> You can find more of Amal's silliness/writing at;  
>  [Wordpress](https://enchantedtalisman.wordpress.com/blog/)  
> [Tumblr](https://enchantedtalisman.tumblr.com)  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ForlornGriffon)
> 
> ~All the love friendlies
> 
> ~~Black Lives Matter and if you don't think so please do not read or interact with my works.


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